


Prom King

by its_worse_than_that



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_worse_than_that/pseuds/its_worse_than_that
Summary: Cheesy but cute Avengers high school prom AU





	Prom King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TooNerdyToHandle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooNerdyToHandle/gifts).



Bucky’s home is large, which is accommodating, given that it has to comfortably house a family of six. For Steve, the Barnes-Proctor residence is his second home and second family. Bucky was barely four when he’d met Steve, back when they were both being babysat by the same lady, and Bucky had already been adopted by the Proctors at that point. So they’ve known him as long as his best friend has and have always been just another set of parents to him. This means that after fourteen years, Steve never needs to knock when he shows up.

Walking through the front door, he calls out, “Hey Buck? M’here!”

“In the kitchen, buddy; just grabbing a glass of OJ. You want in?” Bucky calls from down the hall.

“Nah, I’m fine. M’gonna use the washroom to change,” Steve replies. A few minutes later, he walks back out in his swim trunks and his t-shirt. Even though Bucky’s seen him shirtless almost as much as his own mother has, Steve hates being on display like that. He knows his underweight figure is most definitely not attractive; he doesn’t need the guy he’s always been craziest about having to look at it, too.

Sure enough, though, when he steps into the kitchen and Bucky sees him, he rolls his eyes mid-sip of juice and then says after swallowing, “Dude, it’s just us – how many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay to take the shirt off?”

Steve’s already opening up the fridge door to pull out a bottle of water. Internally, he just keeps trying to remember not to go blurting anything out or be weird or something. So he just says something along the lines of what he always says, only vaguely hearing himself – “Yeah, I know, Buck. Still don’t mean m’gonna take it off, though.”

Bucky watches him while he leans against the counter and traces his index finger around the rim of his glass. Narrowing his eyes just the tiniest bit, he asks, “You sure nothing’s up with you? You’ve been off all day; can’t shake the feelin’ that there’s something you ain’t telling me.”

Steve closes the door and twists the cap off of the water bottle; buying himself some time by taking a big, long gulp while he gathers his thoughts and tries to appear casual. He shrugs, playing dumb. “I told you I’m fine,” he replies. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause it’s getting closer to prom and…”

Bucky’s face relaxes and he gets a look, as though he suddenly fully understands. Steve feels bad for making Bucky think he gets it now, when he really, really doesn’t. “Steve, I know what you’re doin’ to yourself, okay? You’re gonna get all stressed out about askin’ someone, and then if none of the girls at school are smart enough to see how much of a catch you are, you’re gonna take it personally, get all down on yourself, and not wanna go.”

(Okay, well, that’s still sort of true.)

“Buck,” Steve sighs, “I don’t wanna talk about--”

“Okay, okay, we won’t,” Bucky interrupts, lifting his hands in surrender. But then he brings his glass back to his lips and says matter-of-factly, “But I already spoke to the rest of the gang and we’ve all decided we’re gonna go stag so we can make it a group thing.”

“What?” Steve asks in surprise.

This gets Bucky smiling. “You heard me – no worrying about tryin’ to get dates, or rejections, or all that bullshit. We’re gonna enjoy the night together. After all, we won’t have many more chances like this once summer’s over.”

They both go quiet for a moment, staring at each other and then away sadly. Many of their friends are moving to different locations to go to school out of State. Steve almost did, too, until he found out that Bucky was going to be going to NYU. Then, of course, Steve had not-so-subtly accepted his offer from the New York Academy of Art. Bucky hadn’t even pretended to hide how happy he was that Steve wouldn’t be leaving. But the idea of not being able to just call up Natasha, or Tony, or Peggy, or Bruce, and just get together with them… It was hard to wrap their heads around. They’d all been friends since elementary school.

“Can you even do that, though?” Steve asks quietly after another minute of silence, trying not to get his hopes up. “I mean, we both know you’re definitely gonna be voted Prom King.”

“We don’t know that,” Bucky replies humbly, but yeah, they both know it. His biggest competition is Brock Rumlow, who’s one of the school’s typical ‘cool jocks’. But Bucky’s loved by everybody and somehow manages to be both a jock and an artistic geek at the same time. His hands can pluck the strings of a guitar or sculpt something from clay as effortlessly and as smoothly as he can dribble a basketball or throw a football.

Bucky’s basically just perfect, is Steve’s position on the matter.

“Besides,” Bucky continues, once again pulling him from his thoughts, “there’s no rule that says I gotta bring a date just ‘cause I was nominated. I can do whatever I want. What’re they gonna do – not let me graduate? I’m an honors student.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve says, smiling. He’s starting to feel much better. In fact, the conversation’s been so normal and comfortable that he’d actually forgotten all about the videos… That is, until Bucky finishes his glass of orange juice and then pushes himself from the counter, tugging his shirt over his head.

Aaaand then Steve’s eyes fall to his unfairly perfect torso and he remembers. Everything. In painful detail. He only just catches himself to stop staring when Bucky glances back over to him, and that’s when Steve realizes that Bucky’s been in his swim shorts the entire time. Bucky grabs their towels and tosses one Steve’s way, as the blond follows him out to the backyard, once again very much regretting this decision. He’s already half-hard again, and if he pops a boner before he can disguise it in the pool, he’s going to be so fucking busted.

Bucky’s always been a bit of a show-off. He tosses his towel onto one of the lounging chairs and then breaks into a run; gaining momentum so he can throw himself head-first into the air and do a front flip into the deep end of the in-ground pool. He makes an impressive splash before his head rips from the water’s surface and he’s using his hands to swipe his hair back and off of his face. Steve almost groans – Bucky shouldn’t be allowed to do that. He also shouldn’t be allowed to have his hair wet and slicked back like that. Or be looking up at Steve with that expectant, boyish grin like that either.

“C’mon, ya pussy – get in!” he hollers.

Steve realizes as he puts his towel down that he completely forgot to change his glasses to his contacts while at home. And he sure as hell can’t swim with them on; not unless he wants them getting all wet and annoyingly fogged up. Then he’ll be rubbing at them all night. The alternative is that, unfortunately, he’ll have to be partially blind. Sighing to himself, he opts for blindness as he pulls them off and then heads towards the pool, squinting to make sure he doesn’t miscalculate his footing and go plummeting in unexpectedly.

Bucky notices and immediately gets out of the pool to come help him find his way to the built-in staircase leading into the shallow end. Steve feels like an idiot for needing help like this, but it wouldn’t be the first time. It’s also a welcome distraction, so his body doesn’t go embarrassing him by getting any unwanted erections. Luckily, that also means he won’t need to see Bucky’s body in all that perfect detail while they swim – so okay, this is good, he can get through this.

Bucky’s always also been a total shithead. The water’s colder than Steve expected, and he’s a bit of a wuss when it comes to adjusting to it – he’s always been a test the water with your toes and then ease your way in kind of guy, whereas Bucky’s the cannonball straight into the deep end and get the worst part over with sort of person. So it takes him a few minutes just to let the water get up to his hips. Bucky, having been watching impatiently, eventually comes splashing up behind him and tosses Steve over his shoulder. Steve shouts and curses him, pounding at the brunet’s back with his fists, until he starts yelling, “Put me down! Bucky! Fuckin’ stop it – I said, put me down!”

“Alright, if you insist!” Bucky replies gleefully – and then chucks Steve into the water.

Steve emerges and shouts, “Fuck you!” because fuck, this shit is cold – and he can hear Bucky’s laughter, but now he’s also got water in his eyes and his bangs matted over them, too, so he has no idea where to look. Kicking his legs to remain afloat, he pushes his own hair back and then huffs, looking around for Bucky, but it hadn’t really helped his sight all that much. He really should’ve remembered the damn contacts. And Bucky’s laughter has stopped and he isn’t making a sound anymore, so Steve can’t find him at all.

“Buck?” he says. Nothing. Steve circles his arms and kicks his legs and spins in a small circle, on guard. “Buck, don’t be a dick; where are you?”

Somewhere off to his left, he suddenly hears Bucky sing, “Duh-na…”

Then silence. A tiny sound of water splashing but then suddenly Bucky’s voice is off to the right as he sings again, “Duh-na…”

“Bucky, don’t even fuckin’ think about it,” Steve warns.

Now the voice comes from somewhere off behind him; Bucky must be doing all of his swimming underwater so Steve can’t hear the movements. “Duh-na, duh-na, duh-na,” he keeps singing mischievously, doing his best impression of the theme song from Jaws.

“Buck--”

There’s a splash, and Steve spins around quickly in its direction. His pulse is quickening with that adrenaline you feel when you watch a scary movie and know the killer’s about to jump out – and he both hates and loves when Bucky does crap like this to him. He can mostly just see blobs and fuzzy shapes of different colours, but none that resemble Bucky’s hair. Everything’s silent. Steve opens his mouth again—

“DA NA NAAAAA!” Bucky suddenly shouts a split-second after Steve feels a splash and realizes Bucky’s swum up literally right behind him. In an instant, Bucky’s throwing his arms around him and tackling him into the water. Steve yelps with surprise but is able to take a breath before his head is submerged. When they come up for air, he hears Bucky start cackling maniacally, so he decides he might as well put up a fight and try and break out of his grip.

They’ve wrestled like this a million times before… But somehow, in the commotion, Steve overshoots his lung capacity and exerts himself way too much – going from horsing around to suddenly panicking, as he struggles to breathe and suddenly feels like he can’t keep his head above the surface. He can hear Bucky’s voice, but his own gasping is too loud to be able to make out the specifics of what he’s saying.

All Steve knows is that one second, he’s thrashing, and the next, Bucky’s voice is really close and he’s grabbing Steve and pulling him to his own body. He gets Steve’s legs around his waist and guides him to throw his arms around Bucky’s neck – and suddenly Steve finds himself in Bucky’s arms, with their faces inches apart, and the feeling of Bucky’s arms tightly around his back and their hips pressed together.

The only reason his dick doesn’t immediately get hard is due to the panic still in his system, as well as the fact that with how tired he’s made himself and how chilly the water is, his pathetically frail body probably couldn’t actually get the proper blood flow for that right now. But that doesn’t make the closeness any less terrifying at the moment.

He immediately stops fighting and stills. This close, and Steve can see Bucky’s face much more clearly. Bucky’s staring at him with a startling amount of worry in his eyes, and oh god, fuck, they’re so close that their noses are practically touching. They have never been this close in this way before, and Steve has no idea what he’s supposed to do or where this is supposed to head.

Bucky swallows – did his eyes just flicker down to Steve’s mouth or did Steve just have a temporary stroke or something? – and then he asks, “Are you okay…?”

Steve just keeps staring at his eyes, his own baby blues slightly widened, and gives a tiny nod. “Yeah…” he replies quietly. The confusion is so painfully evident in his voice. “I… Sorry about that…”

“No, uh…” Bucky clears his throat. He hasn’t looked away from Steve’s eyes. “That was all on me. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”

He also hasn’t let go of Steve, either.

For a split second, Steve wonders if they’re about to kiss. This is usually what happens in movies right before people kiss for the first time. And then he realizes how stupid of a hope that is for him to have, and he feels like he’s about to cry. He definitely doesn’t want Bucky to see that, so he breaks the eye contacts and looks over to his towel, muttering, “I think I wanna get out now, if that’s okay.”

“Oh… Yeah, yeah of course, buddy. Hang on.”

Bucky wades through the pool, across the shallow end until Steve can find his own footing. Bucky makes sure to keep one hand gripping his arm and one splayed flush in the middle of Steve’s bony back as he walks him up the stairs and around the edge of the pool to grab their towels and Steve shoves his glasses back on. For the most part, they stay silent as they head back into the house. In the bathroom, Steve changes back into his pants and puts on a dry shirt he’d brought with him, and even with perfect vision again, Steve chooses not to look at himself.

When he heads back into the living room, Bucky’s got the TV on and is in the middle of texting. He smiles over at Steve like nothing happened, but he does ask, “Feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah,” Steve lies, throwing on a smile. He flops down on the couch, but subtly tries to put some space between them – even though all he wants to do is get as close as possible and breathe in Bucky’s scent, of shampoo and cigarettes and lingering Axe body spray and chlorine. They’re quiet for a few minutes and just stare at what’s on TV.

“You wanna order pizza or somethin’?” Bucky eventually asks.

Steve can’t help but be thankful and relieved that Bucky was the braver of the two of them to re-initiate the conversation. He exhales, losing some of the tension that’d been in his body, and answers, “Sounds great, I’m starving.”


End file.
